


Enacia

by Algophilia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate School, Creatures, F/F, F/M, Gen, Loyal Weasleys, M/M, Manipulative Dumbledore, Multi, Multiple Pairings, Multiple Partners, Spy System, different school
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-06 00:39:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1838014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Algophilia/pseuds/Algophilia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter is a tired soul. He's been through much as the price of his own life. But after figuring out Dumbledore's Manipulations (Third Year), the Golden Trio figures out a way out of this mold all three are forced in. They've been gaining allies in all four Houses and decided it was time to enact their Master Plan. Harry and Ron leave for another school, intent on learning everything they could in their two year time limit while Hermione plays the scorned friend - secretly cultivating carefully made alliances.</p><p>But Enacia isn't for the weak at heart. Magic thought extinct from the Wizarding World, teachers whose way of teaching includes a 'hands-on' demonstration and Creatures whose superiority complex gives Voldemort a run for his money. Not to mention; mates, deception, war and a not so secret secret that Dumbledore is trying to keep under wraps. Of course Enacia will help... that is of course if Voldemort, Dumbledore or some stray fangs don't kill him first. Not Dumbledore Bashing but Manipulative Dumbledore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enacia

**Enacia**

_For the Magically Gifted_

* * *

A simple name and a simple epitaph. Harry read the name carefully and - for lack of better things to do - read the back with a small frown of annoyance. Ever since Dumbledore had completely cut all contact with him, he's been getting many different acceptance letters from many different schools. For someone who had figured out Dumbledore's manipulations early on in the game, it was obvious what had happened.

_Someone had been blocking his mail._

_Someone had been keeping one too many tabs on him._

_And Someone had planned his life to a T._

Really, it didn't bother him anymore. Sure when he found out from the Goblins it had taken nearly six warders to keep his **magic** under wraps. Of course, everything in the barrier was completely destroyed and he had actually been on his way out to murder both Dumbledore and _Molly_ Weasley when the Goblin Warriors had restrained him, but he got better.

He still had a largely homicidal urge to destroy everything both held dear, but he was calmer and realized there was no point in wasting energy hating a soon to be dead man. Now Molly was still motherly and all, but Harry still wasn't sure she was getting paid knowingly or not. He wanted to believe in her... _maternal_ nature rather than the greedy one that lurked in every human being. But... he sighed and put those thoughts off for later.

Dumbledore was a different problem all together.

Without the Blood Wards surrounding Privet Drive - not that Dumbledore knew they had fallen - it appeared that the _Tracking_ , _Monitoring_ and _Mail_ _Monitoring_ Wards that had been added also fell. So not only was Voldemort's Minions sure to attack any day now, but he was receiving mail he should have years ago. Six years to be exact.

There were bank statements - withdrawals from Dumbledore only, but money deposited into the Weasley Family - random letters from certain _Ancient and Noble Houses_ , school acceptance letters, millions of letters proclaiming him a liar and an attention seeker, then letters saying they believed him from the same people.

Of course, not all of them were as innocuous. Many contained hexes, curses, even poison. Luckily poison didn't really effect him anymore. Being injected with one of the most deadliest venom in the world made most - if not all - toxins ineffective. It was something he was glad for, not to mention the automatic toxicity in his blood. Maybe that Basilisk was good for something.

And about Dumbledore not knowing, well Harry had destroyed the tiny, silver mechanisms that had been keeping track of said Wards when Dumbledore had the gall to tell him the entirety of the Wizarding World depended on him. He flopped back on his 'bed', hands cradling his head and legs crossed as he stared up at the ceiling.

After the Dursley's had found out Sirius had died, he was moved back to the Cupboard Under the Stairs. He had been upgraded - when going to Hogwarts - because the Dursley's were afraid of what Harry would do to them should he learn **magic**. Then the notice came saying that Harry wasn't allowed to do **magic** during the hols.

Harry would have been moved back to the Cupboard if not for the whole revelation about Sirius Black - pseudo-mass murderer - was his Godfather and would be _very_ upset should anything happen to Harry. Now that Sirius was dead, he had no foothold with the Dursley Family. And while Harry was shook up about his Godfather's death, no matter what, Sirius was still a stranger.

Really. Harry mourned more about the lost hope of an actual family than the man himself. It was the idea of a family.

Not that he minded the Cupboard, really. After ten years in the same small as hell room, Harry found he had a minor case of Agoraphobia. Fear of open spaces. He just wished the Dursley's would let him do something about the spiders in the corner. Harry was fond of them, having lived with them for a little more than half his life, but they were creepy. After having to deal with Aragog, any spider would give him the creeps at this point.

Man-Eating spiders did that to you.

But, back to the matter at hand. **Enacia** **.** It was funny, that was all it said. But as soon as he expressed interest in going to the school, the inked name had faded into _very_ detailed information. But, that wasn't the only thing that impressed him. It seemed that they didn't give information out easily because there was a seriously _complex_ geas on the words, forbidding the reader from speaking of what was read.

To put it simply, it was an Academy for different creatures. While Hogwarts hosted an odd Werewolf, this Academy had everything in spades. Vampires, Wyverns, Humanoid Basilisks, Chimeras, etc. And every single class known to man. It was sad that Hogwarts was considered one of the best schools in Europe with all the subjects listed below.

_\- Parselmagic_

_\- Elemental Magic_

_\- Healing_

_\- Music_

_\- Potions_

_\- Culinary_

_\- Dueling_

_\- Weapons and Battle_

_\- Runes_

_\- Blood Magic_

_\- Divining_

There were a lot more, but these were the ones Harry was interested in the most. He already knew the bare basics of Parselmagic, Runes, Arithmacy and also a bit on Divining. Muggle Subjects, such as Culinary and Music, were something that came naturally to him. This included a font look at the cello stashed in the corner of his room, hidden under an illusion created by a Parselspell. The Dursley's would never approve of the creativity that was music.

With a purse of lips and a flip of his hand, the paper was hovering in front of his face - indecision in his mien. Choices, choices, so many choices. While there were many schools like **Enacia** , none held his interest as much as this Academy did. And there was no obvious reason why. Is there some sort of game being played here?

He chuckled. There was always a game being played.

But that still didn't solve his current dilemma. It had already been decided, should he leave Hogwarts (and he was) then Ron would leave with him. No one would suspect Hermione of being a spy, not the 'Ravenclaw Gryffindor' who respected authority way more than she should. Ron was both too hotheaded for such a job, and easier to read than a book.

Harry had already questioned Ron about the money their family was getting and the red head had been completely horrified, vehemently denying knowing anything and went as far as to swear it upon his magic. Hermione had immediately followed suit, not wanting any doubts cast her way. It still made him a bit misty-eyed to think about it.

Ever since the Second Task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, Ron had been trying his best to repair the damage his jealousy and envy had wrecked, ashamed of himself for even thinking Harry would do such a thing. It was amusing that instead of being his usual lazy self - when it came to Hermione or Harry - he turned into a boy with a major overprotective gene.

He snorted.

Hermione herself had agreed to stay in Hogwarts, though she was obviously green when she saw the advanced subjects offered but bowed out gracefully when she realized she was the only one able to do her job successfully. A small smile lit his face as he thought of his bookish friend, one that had threatened bodily harm should she not receive copies of his books.

Luna was leaving as well, to a place where one would appreciate her gift of aura-seeing and near prodigious Rune work. She had been accepted to some place in the states where people were genuinely more tolerate of _different_.

Neville on the other hand had found out some time in the summer of Third Year that he was an Elemental and anyone that knew him would know exactly what kind of Elemental. So he was going to some other school, a little off the shores of Europe, hopefully doing better there than Hogwarts.

Flicking his fingers, the paper smoothed out, and with absent-minded intentness... started folding an airplane magically.

Ron, they had found out, was also something magical - _one corner went down_ \- but no one would really know until the Weasley turned seventeen. Magical Majority and all that good stuff. But with research, namely Hermione, they had narrowed it down to four possible choices. _Another corner went down._

A Fire Elemental - ironic, red hair, explosive personality - an unpronounceable type of **demon** that lived in volcanoes, a Drachen or some sort of Fire Faerie. Of course Ron had been suitably horrified at the thought of being a Fire _Faerie_. The red-head had no problems with the actual spiecies but the name. Hermione had made the thought of being a Faerie easier.

He could be a Blasted End Skrewt. There was no protest after that.

 _A side was folded upwards_. Hermione on the other hand had no need for some creature to make her more awesome than she already was. A near eidetic memory, natural occlumency shields and the ability to fool people into believe there was nothing more than a 'goody two-shoes' with a pretty face. Hermione was anything but. And anyone who said differently would be on the receiving end of her wand. And fist.

_The opposite side was folded upwards._

The twins were already doing a spectacular job of gathering information during Order Meetings and filtering the gossip in Diagon Alley. Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass were doing their part and spreading rumors within the Slytherin House about how Voldemort was like. Luring people to their side of the cause without seeming like it.

In the Hufflepuff House, Susan Bones and Leanne Lauland were in on it as well - sifting through the rabble and trying to find that rare diamond that actually epitomized the Hufflepuff House as a whole. Unafraid of toil, ready to fight for their friends, etc. So far, they found a little more than twenty. And that was in the entire House. It was a slow process, but going.

_And then both folded down._

The Ravenclaw House was excellent as always. Providing whatever information Hermione couldn't find and using their reputation as the 'bookworms' of the school to study things that would make anyone else look suspicious. It was a brilliant wall to hide behind because they had that excuse of learning it just because. They needed no real reason. A flaw that should be fixed later on in the future.

Then there was Gryffindor. Nothing was going right there. The Gryffindors were a very stubborn lot. They refused to listen to anything against Dumbledore - according to his informants subtle prods - and preached about the greatness of the old man. Neville was his go to man in the House of the Brave, but he was leaving and that left only -

_Fay Dunbar, Dean Thomas, Ginny Weasley and Colin Creevey._

He bit his lip. In every other House, Harry had at least twelve informants and really - in his own House - only four. It was disappointing and not in the least bit surprising. Seamus would have been a huge help... if he still didn't think Harry was just an attention-seeking prat that insulted mothers for fun. No matter how much Dean protested the lie.

_A twitch of his fingers and the plane was off flying around the small cupboard._

With a shake of his head, Harry swung his legs over the edge of his 'bed' (really, more of a pile of blankets) and stood - head barely touching the ceiling. He caught the airplane between to slim fingers and wandlessly unlocked all six deadbolts that lined the door. With several snaps, they came undone and the door was swung open.

A small smirk curved his lips then. It seemed the Dursley's weren't home. And while that would make escaping much easier, it would have been funny to see their faces at his latest feat of magic. Of course, they would stir up a storm and probably call Dumbledore - desperate as they were - and he would be beaten unconscious by Vernon. But other than that...

He grimaced, thinking about the consequences now was giving him issues and it wasn't something he liked. " **Accio** : School Trunk. **Accio:** Wands. **Accio:** Mother's Trunk." Three simultaneous sounds happened. A splintering of wood. A loud band - as if a car had backed up. And another splintering of wood.

From the smallest bedroom in the house, his trunk flew down the stairs, leaving a hole in the door and wooden pieces all over the usually immaculate floor. The second splintering of wood came from the attic where his mother had hidden her school trunk in hopes to get it back sometime in the future. It was a shame she never got the opportunity because from Harry read from her Charm Notes, his Mother was a prodigy among prodigies.

From Vernon and Petunia's room, two wands floated leisurely down the stairs. The loud noises were probably from the mess said wands caused in the Dursley's room. Harry's wands did not like being locked up and had showed their displeasure by completely wrecking the room. Sometimes, Harry thinks his wands had minds of their own.

And yes, wands as in plural.

Phoenix Feather Core, Holly Wood, Nice and Supple.

Crow Feather Core, Manchineel Wood, Unyielding and Good With Blood Magic.

One wand that represented life. And another that meant death. It was amusing, but at the moment - everything was amusing. It was like he was high - but that wasn't the case. It was more like he was too delirious with the thought of freedom that everything was surreal for him. He chuckled and shrunk everything down so he could attach it to his earrings. Silver hooped and out of sight by shaggy _shaggy_ hair.

He had grown his hair out sometime in the middle of fifth year, not only to make it more tamable (laziness was also a factor) - but also in rebellion. Umbitch had ranted and raved about his hair and if Harry had someway to get to Diagon Alley and back, he would have gotten a tattoo as well. Too bad the toad died before he had a chance to do so.

Right now, his hair was so messy, covering green eyes while his fringe ended right before his nose. Ron had found his hair funny to look at - making it a personal game to see if Harry could actually _see_ from behind his bangs or was using his **magic** sight. And Hermione, of course, had taken a wool brush and scissors to it as soon as she saw it. Cut off all his hair, styled and froze it with some hair charm - she was pretty decent and it actually looked nice - but Harry liked his privacy and no one really thought the hobo-looking Wizard was Harry Potter.

Luckily - as little as it was - Harry had a bit of Metamorphmagus in his veins. Not enough for major changes, but for smaller ones as in hair, eyes and (thank Fortuna) his scar. It was cursed scar, so it couldn't be removed, but it could be moved and moved it he did. To his bum. Hopefully no one would close enough to that area to guess who he was.

Slipping pass the Order Guards around the house was pathetically easy, especially with his Father's Invisibility Cloak and a couple of both Scent and Sound-Removing charms that would make finding him extremely difficult.

Once outside and about a miles walk away from Privet Dr., he summoned the Knight Bus - with his second wand - and completely changed the way he stood. Where once an attentive, confident and powerful man stood - transformed into one who slouched where he stood and looked smaller than he really was.

A large white sweater - it was beat up and comfortable but at least three times his size - and loose fitting pants. His shoulders were drawn down and he was looking down, though you couldn't really tell with his hair. His head was lowered submissively and all-in-all, he was the picture perfect form of a man with too many problems on his head.

With a loud **boom!** the Knight Bus and appeared and the doors opened to view Stan's pimply face. "Hullo and welcome ta the Knight Bus. Thirteen Sickles buys a cup of hot chocolate, while fifteen gets a hot water bottle and a toothbrush in any colour, where to?" Usually a chatter-box, even Stan could tell this fella wasn't someone to talk to at the moment.

Harry's voice deepened and took on a world-weary tone. "Knockturn Alley, please."

At this, Stan immediately looked suspicious, but said nothing as Harry climbed aboard and took a seat of a bed. "And we're off!" Immediately, a _sticking_ charm was applied to the seat, green eyes bright with excitement. He had always loved the Knight Bus. It was too much fun. He stifled a whoop when a particularly sharp turn turned the bus upside down.

They flipped back over, bus turned narrow and squeezed between two buildings before shrinking and diving under another car. Soon enough, they arrived within two minutes of departure and Harry quickly wiped the huge grin that split his face.

Exiting the bus, he tossed a galleon tip to Stan - who tipped his hat in reply - and breathed in the darkness that permeated the alley. It wasn't exactly **Dark** Magic, but it wasn't **Light** neither. Most people automatically assumed that only Dark Wizards loitered around Knockturn... they couldn't be more wrong.

Stepping through what was the Leaky Cauldron's equivalent - the Drunken Paw - and into Knockturn Alley he headed quickly towards **Gringotts**.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N:
> 
> Review please. Constructive Criticism is appreciated. Flames will be reported, or if you're a Guest... well you're welcome to try and offend me. I probably heard every line by now.
> 
> Please tell me what kind of creatures you will want to see. Ideas for Harry's Mates (Max: Three). OC's Applicable. Form on my Profile.


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